


Unsteady

by Helloyesthisisdilophosaurus



Series: After the Rain [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, Family Issues, Fixing things, Mentions of traumatic injury, Trauma, sibling relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:28:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26538859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helloyesthisisdilophosaurus/pseuds/Helloyesthisisdilophosaurus
Summary: It's not easy to patch up relationships, especially when you don't know where you stand. But sometimes Primus throws his creations a bone.
Relationships: Elita One/Optimus Prime
Series: After the Rain [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1929787
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Unsteady

**Author's Note:**

> So, just a heads up, this is unbetaed and while I personally didn't find any grammatical or spelling issues in it feel free to tell me if you do. I'd like for this to actually be the start of a series if I can get my Hell Brain to function.

Hot Rod remembers Tyger Pax. He’s still there sometimes in his processor, when his dreams are replaced with replay and nightmares about the war.

He’s ped deep in energon, the tattered remnants of Delta Team and four companies trapped in a brutal grind with a seemingly endless tide of ‘cons. It was Megatron’s big push, punching through the warren of canyons and fallen architecture like a spear tip thrusting towards the Hegemon currently housing one of the last Autobot strongholds in the territory. Hot Rod’s only been combat approved for a few solar cycles and already he’s killed more drone vehicons and actual Cybertronians than he can care to count.

His hydraulics are stressed, there’s so many fatigue warnings in his HUD he had to shut them down, and his commlink is barking something that he can’t hear over the screams and weapons fire. It’s all hack and slash and punch and shout and die.

He ducks a saw blade, cleaves through a purple shoulder joint, cuts across a red optic’d face, drives the point of his sword through the Deception brand on a warrior’s chest.

A fist catches him in the side of the helm, one of many hits he’s taken today. He loses his sword, still in the dead ‘cons chest, and drives a blue spattered right hook into the decepticon’s snarling face in reply…

He remembers the next part too, a gunship falling out of the sky hammers into the rust and energon coated iron of the ground right beside him. Hot Rod doesn’t remember tumbling through the air so when the explosion clears he’s picking himself up off the stained ground.

There’s his sword, there’s more ‘cons he…

He’s out of the fight...right, timeskips, those happen in replay sometimes. He vaguely remembers some medic talking about how they happen because your processor doesn’t want to overclock from all the replay or something…

He’s in the triage center, his left arm broken and supported by welded metal brace, a mesh compression bandage staving off the bleeding from a nasty cut on his helm that had severed one of the sensory crests

He hadn’t felt it…

He’s not thinking about that in the long lost moment. His brother is on the table, medically induced stasis, fragging Megatron had torn his voice box out and whatever dumb frag medic had just stabilized him and moved on instead of trying to fix what was broken. 

Bumblebee was never going to talk again… Not normally at least.

More timeskips, more snatches of replay. The red and blue of his sire, the bright pink of his carrier, arguing, him being spiteful.

His sire doesn’t raise his voice once, but there’s a flash of pain in his optics. His carrier isn’t as restrained, she shouts back, he leaves them both and lets the metaphorical bridge burn behind him.

———————

His optics online, HUD immediately scrolling through all the regular checks faster than he can parse. In the corner of his vision the chrono shows that he’s recharged well past what he meant to and missed the early shift at the sensors. Not really surprising considering he’d been running combat coding for the past three weeks in an attempt to stay off base and in the field as much as possible. It was going to catch up with him eventually, Ratchet told him as much last night.

His walk to the central room is short, two of the kids are sitting on the ratty couch in their living area playing a racing game. Ratchet is at the computer as per usual, Bulkhead and Bee were cheering their respective wards on.

Ratchet acknowledges him with a grumble and Bulkhead turns to greet him before Bumblebee, who is thoroughly engrossed in watching Raf out maneuver and increasingly frustrated Miko.

“Well what do you know, he lives. I was beginning to think you’d managed to offline yourself in your sleep.” There’s a mischievous tone in the Wrecker’s statement that gets Hot Rod to roll his optics.

“Yeah well,” he replies “when you’re the sole one doing the heavy lifting around here sometimes you have to sleep in.”

Ratchet scoffs, Bulkhead laughs, and Bee lets out an amused blurt of binary. All in all, a pretty normal start to the day. Which is what Hot Rod had been hoping for after landing in the midst of the whole Dark Energon Zombie Army debacle last month.

“What’s the score so far?” He asks as he playfully punches his younger sibling’s shoulder armor to get him to move over.

‘Three to one: Raf’ Bee blurts as he moves over to let Hot Rod get a view.

“Wow, really? C’mon Miko I had good money on you last time.”

Her almost screech as she looks back at him is indignant. “It’s not my fault! He keeps cheating!”

“I’m not cheating,” Raf defends as he adjusts his glasses “I’m exploiting, there’s a difference.”

Miko grumbles something in japanese that he’s pretty sure she shouldn’t be saying after a quick check with his auto-trans. Not that he particularly cares, his only concern with the kids was that they were safe and had a good time, he could let Arcee or Elita or Primus forbid his fragging sire talk to her if they wanted her to watch her language. 

A thought, “Hey, where’s Arcee and Jack?”

“Driving, there was a potential energon spike in someplace called Oregon.” Bulkhead answered. “We take the kids on low risk recons.”

Right, carbon deposits could give off false signals and Earth was nothing if not a carbon rich dirt ball. “That makes sense, is there anything else on the docket?”

Bulkhead shrugged. “Optimus and Elita took the only other scouting mission. It’s looking like a slow day today.”

Well slag, he’d been avoiding things for long enough he guessed. Or he could tell Ratchet he was taking a drive which was very, very tempting. He’d rather not have to have a talk with his creators considering what went down the last time and if he couldn’t find a good reason to get out of it he’d have to face it. His door wings dropped a bit, which must’ve caught Bee’s optic.

‘You’ll be fine.’ The younger ‘bot commed over a private channel. ‘They missed you.’

That hit a nerve a bit, to Hot Rod’s surprise, the annoyed flutter of his door wings wasn’t voluntary. After a moment he sent back, ‘Bee, that’s really easy for you to say when you’re the jewel of both their optics. The first child is always the frag up.’ 

‘You’re not that much of a frag up.’

Hot Rod grinned a bit. ‘Thank you for the vote of confidence, little brother. Now c’mon you’re missing your friend kick Miko’s aft talking to me.’

————————

Video game time inevitably faded into monster movie time. Bulkhead and Miko’s tastes could be...acquired when it came to human cinema, and that was saying something when he’d only been viewing it for a month, but he had to admit that their current creature feature was one of the better ones even if it was a bit simplistic. Big monster lands in New York, you barely see it because the movie was filmed as though it was actual footage from people who were there, and there’s a lot of destruction.

It also kept him from burning out his processor with worry. He’d admit that one of his faults was that he could focus too much on one thing and miss everything else, and the inevitable confrontation between he and his creators had been on his processor for a while now.

They had seemed relieved when his pod landed, there had been a few indications that they were either unsure about his presence here or they were saving face. Things the humans and maybe not even the other ‘bots would immediately catch. A stiffness in their greeting him, the subtle nods towards each other like they were talking over their bond, the quick twitch of Elita’s door wings. They were building up to something for sure. He just didn’t know what.

Maybe he was over thinking things again…

His creators did return, perfectly fine, and with a meager supply of energon crystals collected from a washed out cave. They seemed content enough, and Hot Rod went back to commenting on the new movie’s nonexistent plot before the fun was broken by the unmistakably heavy tread of Optimus approaching.

He turned, looking up to meet his sire’s gaze. Optimus was normally good at hiding his emotions, but there was a glimmer of apprehension in his optics. Good, because if he did slag this up Hot Rod would be gone.

“Rodimus-” strike one

“My name is Hot Rod.” He interrupted.

“Hot Rod,” Optimus started again, his tone neutral. “May we speak, in private, if you are not too busy with your recreation?”

There wasn’t anything barbed in his sire’s tone, but he was still hesitant. Optimus was giving him an out, he could say he was too busy and let Bulkhead and Bumblebee rib him for it once they stopped acting like they weren’t listening or he could walk away with Optimus into the uncomfortable unknown of where their relationship stood...maybe even with Elita waiting in ambush. Despite her bright pink color scheme and unique helm crests she could be surprisingly stealthy.

Might as well get it over with.

“Sure.” Hot Rod said with all the confidence a young mech could muster to hide the anxiety he was feeling.

They moved deeper into the base, Hot Rod presumed it was so the shouting wouldn’t carry as far.

They were halfway between the armory and the power supply valve before Optimus spoke, his baritone breaking the silence like the rumble of a slowly shifting hillside. “Hot Rod, I know that our last meeting ended acrimoniously, but I cannot fully express how happy it makes me to have you back in my presence.”

Hot Rod looked at his sire as they walked. He wasn’t completely surprised, but he’d wait for the other ped to drop before he said anything.

Optimus returned his gaze, continuing. “I would like to put our past arguments behind us. Elita and I would love nothing more than to have our family whole again,” he paused, considering his next words maybe?

“But, if you desire nothing more than a professional relationship with us, or none at all, we will not attempt to force you.”

Well scrap, he’d prefer they had a fight than this. Hot Rod knew his sire was being sincere, he was an absolutely horrible liar, but he couldn’t trust Optimus. Not after what he knowingly sent Bumblebee into. Not after what he’d seen at Tyger Pax…

“Father,” he started with a crack in his voice he didn’t need, “I...want to have a relationship with you, I do, but I’ve seen what you’re willing to do to your own troops if you think it’s the right thing. I understand that sacrifices are required in war, I know not everyone will come back, but after listening to your speeches for all my sparklinghood I thought you didn’t waste life. What I said about the pointlessness of that battle still stands. We could’ve pulled back, you didn’t have to press the attack, you didn’t need to send out scouts. To send out Bee…” Hot Rod was aware he wasn’t a tactical genius, but he’d studied every analysis of that fight and every after action report he could find. They all pointed to the same thing; Optimus made a mistake that cost his youngest son his voice and hundreds of thousands of Autobots their lives.

The look in the Autobot leader’s optics was distant as he considered his eldest child’s words. “I have had time to consider my actions that day, and I agree that I made mistakes. If you feel that those mistakes preclude any possibility of us making amends, I understand.”

Now it was his turn to consider, he’d honestly expected a fight, expected Optimus to defend his actions and give him a reason to run far, far away. He didn’t know how to react with his father admitting he made mistakes.

“Maybe not forever…” Hot Rod considered, “But not today. I-” he couldn’t finish, he didn’t know what else to say. “Just not today, father.”

They were deep in the base now, well past anywhere he’d been before. It was still well maintained but it was empty and every scrape of their armor, every whir of gears and joints, echoed. They had stopped walking a few moments ago.

Optimus made a thoughtful ‘hmmmm’ before nodding in acknowledgement of Hot Rod’s decision. Maybe not satisfied with the up-in-the-air nature of their relationship but not angry or visibly hurt.

A beat.

“So, is Elita waiting to ambush me? Since she’s not here I assume she’s listening around a corner or something.”

A small smile formed on his father’s face plate. “No, we thought it best to speak with you one at a time. We did not wish for this to be overwhelming.”

Hot Rod didn’t voice his thoughts on that statement.

———————————-

Later, after he had returned to the common area without Optimus and deflected Miko’s questions (because she couldn’t always take a hint), after Arcee and Jack came back fine, after the kids left for home, and long after he should’ve been recharging Elita found him. He’d taken the elevator up the converted launch shaft so he could enjoy some of the natural beauty of this planet. You could never really see the stars on Cybertron and while Earth had none of the same constellations it did have a stunning view of the Milky Way. Just a blanket of stars and galaxies hanging overhead on a cloudless night made so much of the day’s anxiety peel away, more so than even racing did. All his problems stripped back until he could just feel like Hot Rod. It also gives him time to consider, like a color scheme change maybe? Although he’d really grown fond of the red and orange, flames on the hood when he transformed, yellow on the tangs. Yeah, he’d keep it. He considered other things too, more important, his place here chief among them. So far his best bet was to stay.

He almost didn’t pick up the soft crunch of her steps on the red rock. But he did, and half turned to look at her where he sat on the ledge.

Elita lacked the height and weight that could make Optimus an intimidating figure, especially since he was as tall as her, but she was commanding in her demeanor and personality. Part of that was because she had to for appearances, a Prime’s mate and second in command had to look strong for political reasons even if they were rendered pointless long ago or never even had a point. But Elita was also just that naturally. Fearless, committed, viscous when she had to be, gossip he’d caught on Cybertron said she had been abandoned on the street in Kaon because the sparkling farm that produced her had a surplus. She’d apparently fought for survival on the street until she was old enough to become a security officer, and then she’d joined Megatron back when he was Megatronus. If that was true, why the frag had she joined Optimus? He’d never know, and that’s why he doubted that tale.

Elita slid her more elegant form into a similar position beside him, legs draped over the edge of the cliff, bright blue optics to the stars. The last time he’d really seen those, they had been filled with frustration and anger. Now? They seemed almost...sad as they scanned the heavens.

Unprompted she asked, “Did I ever tell you about the day you were born?”

He thought for a second, “No, I don’t think you ever did.” Hot Rod replied, “I heard from someone else that it wasn’t an easy time however, even more so than normal.”

Elita chuckled, leaning back and letting her servos support her.

“No, it wasn’t, your protoform didn’t separate completely from the wall of my spark chamber. It took the medics a full cycle to get you out, and even then they didn’t know if you would make it. ‘He’s too weak’ they said, ‘he’ll never be able to maintain his core temperature’ they said. I almost believed them, but then they let me hold you.” She turned to him, shifting position so she could cover his servo with her’s. There was a tiny, nostalgic smile creasing her lips.

She continued, “You grabbed one of my digits so tightly that I thought you might dent it, you were small enough to fit in one of your father’s servos but you were so strong. I knew then and there you would make it. And you did, you grew smart, and brave, and fearless. One of the medics who delivered you came up to me after your Autobranding ceremony and said that it was a miracle that you could even walk.” 

Hot Rod let out a heavy vent, funny how she mentioned fearless, “You know, I’m scared all the time. Have been for awhile.”

“I know, you’d have to be crazy not to be.” Elita noted sadly, tiredness creeping into her vocalizer.

“Roddy, honey, I am sorry for how we left off last time. We were both upset and I shouldn’t have escalated things, I should’ve been a better parent than that. I should’ve been a better parent than that a lot that day.” Her voice cracked further, her thoughts probably turning to what happened to Bee.

There was silence for awhile, Hot Rod didn’t know what exactly to say and he was pretty sure that if Elita said anymore at the moment she was going to break down. What could he say? After a gulf spanning several of this planet’s major epochs with him resenting his creators and expecting the worst he found that they both wanted him back, and they were both sorry. And maybe they didn’t have any reason to be, even with their mistakes. He’d been a slag hole during that fight so long ago.

His decision now ultimately came back to one thing, he didn’t know. But he’d never been one to walk on the cautious side in a fight, maybe he should apply that to the relationship with his parents? If they wanted to try and fix things shouldn’t he try as well?

He finally spoke. “I spent centuries being mad at father, and at you, for what happened to Bee. For what happened to me and my comrades. I’ve spent longer thinking that I just can’t trust either of you. But I might be wrong, if you two were willing to admit your mistakes then maybe I’m wrong, if Bumblebee hasn’t run away from you then maybe I’m wrong.”

She looked at him, spark ache written in her features and the slump of her door wings.

He continued, “And if I am wrong, then maybe I should move on. Throughout everything I’ve still loved you and father, even if it was deep down and made me angry, I still did. It might not be quick or even easy to fix things...if they can be fixed, but I think I maybe want to try. This isn’t Cybertron after all, and who knows how much longer we’ll even have left to try ya know?”

Elita looked hopeful, her servo moving to cup his face. He didn’t flinch away, or remove it. It had been so long since anyone had touched him in a truly caring way that he’d forgotten what it felt like.

“I would love that, even if it doesn’t work.” She half whispered.

“Yeah, I would too.” Hot Rod whispered, and, for the first time in millennia he was able to hug his carrier. And that, he realized, was something he’d missed more than almost anything else in the universe.


End file.
